


Shotgun

by Lwoorl



Series: DC Shifters AU [11]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Gen, Transformation, shifters au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 18:15:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17513498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lwoorl/pseuds/Lwoorl
Summary: Snapshots from Alfred's first year in the army.Shifters AU: See notes of the series to know more, but all you need to know is some people can turn into objects and they're called shifters





	Shotgun

**Author's Note:**

> Listen up guys. My classes are gonna start again real soon, so, at exception of that one homestuck fic I promised to update each month, I'm not gonna be very active in ao3. In fact, it would be best if you just assume I'm dead. I will revive around November, probably, and my decaying corpse will maybe leave you stuff now and then every 100 years, hopefully, but for all intents and purposes, I'm RIP.  
> So, without further ado, as if Thanos had snapped his fingers. I will disappear now.

Arthur really, truly, _hates_ feeding day.

See, he gets it, ok? He isn't an insensitive prick, people need to eat from time to time, even people who don't actually need to eat. He gets it, he does.

But why can't it be in a moment normal people aren't using the canteen? It gets filled to the goddamn brim and makes him have to wait forever to get his food. Fuck feeding day. Just fuck feeding day, fuck it.

He's sitting at a table, surrounded by people on all sides, minding his own busyness, when suddenly this guy goes and sits next to him, taking the already little space he had to move. Wonderful.

He glares at this guy, because maybe if he does that enough he will get the message and fuck off, when he notices the little white X on his uniform. Oh, this guy is a vankast, of fucking course. First they come and take all the space on the canteen and now one of them goes and just sits on the already full table so they're so tight they got to touch shoulders, these entitled fuckers, he probably knows perfectly well how he's bothering him, stupid bastard.

“Nice to see you again.” The guys suddenly says, looking right at him. Arthur almost feels the temptation to look around and see if he's talking with someone else.

He seems around his age, with black hair and blue eyes. He's a kast so there's no way he's met him at training and he would remember if he was someone from his town, right?

“Do I know you?”

The man stares for a second before raising an eyebrow, and the fucker actually has the courage to _smirk._ Who the hell is this dude?

“Oh, you know, we're assigned together.”

Assigned together? The hell? “Wha-” Oh wait. Wait shit fuck. “Oh! You're my shotgun!”

Right, right! That guy's got to be Penny, uh Penny something. He hasn't actually ever talked with him, or, like, seen him. Not like this at least. He guesses he wasn't, uh, expecting to ever do so, actually.

“ _Your_ shotgun?” The penny guy repeats. He smiles and shoves Arthur playfully on the shoulder, but there's this, this kind of _edge_ to the way he does so. And, alright, maybe it would be better not saying that again in front of penny guy.

“Right.” He digs one hand from where it's pressed against other people and extends it. “Crampbell, Arthur. Nice to meet you.” The guy takes the handshake.

“Pennyworth, Alfred. Nice to _talk_ to you.”

“ _Right.”_ Man, this is awkward. Now Arthur's gonna think of this dude's face every time he's got that one shooting practice. Great.

He shoves a spoonful of food in his mouth. Pennyworth does the same.

The dude isn't going to start trying to hang out with him, is he? God he hopes not. That would be weird.

“So, shouldn't you be going back to the storage?” He asks while eyeing Pennyworth's tray. “What do you guys get, like, an hour?”

“An hour and a half per month to eat. Fifty minutes every three days. And eight free days per year. Plus holidays.”

“Right.”

“So I got.” Pennyworth generates a pocket watch from somewhere. “About forty minutes.”

“So like fifty just to get your food? Man, the canteen sure gets slow on feeding day.”

“Ah, no, actually.” The guy answers as he makes a pea move in circles with his spoon “I took the time to handle some forms first. We get preferential service on feeding day, so. Takes not time at all.”

“Oh. Right.” Arthur takes a mouthful of smashed potatoes. Of course kasts not only make everything slow but also get to skip the lines. Of course. “So, what forms did you handle?”

“Reassignment papers.” Pennyworth casually says between bites.

“Reassignment papers? For what?”

The dude stares at him, as if examining something on his face. It makes Arthur feel uneasy as fuck.

“I want to become a field medic.” He finally answers, once he's satisfied with whatever he saw.

Arthur has to bite his lips to stop himself from laughing at that. “There's _no_ way you will get to do that!” He exclaims, almost spitting a bit of his food. “Dude, you're a fire weapon! There's no way they won't use you as a fire weapon, no way in hell.”

Pennyworth just shrugs in a detached way. “I know.” Arthur wouldn't have been surprised if the guy got offended, he's been told he's got a talent for making people mad without meaning to, but Pennyworth just seems to take it in stride, like Arthur just told him the weather, there's no bite to his tone either. Huh.

“And why do you want that anyway?” Arthur resumes “Being a weapon sounds great. Do you even know what our daily routine is? We got to lift weights and run until we puke! Hell, I wish I was a kast.”

“I guess.”

“So? Then why?”

“It's just…” Pennyworth seems to think over his words. “...Dull.”

“...I guess.” Well, duh.

“It’s not bad, but I thought it would suit me more, so that's why. That's all.”

“Yeah, you're definitely lying.” He casually says. Not really on base on anything, just a gut feeling. The way the guy's eyebrows shot up when Arthur catches him red handed is comical as hell. He sends him a toothy grin and Penny frowns at him before adverting his face.

“I'm not lying.”

“You're, too.”

“No.”

“Yep.”

He sighs, long and dramatic, and then looks at Arthur like Penny's a teacher hearing a kid saying a dog ate the homework for the eleventh time today. It only makes him smile wider. Hey, this guy isn't as bad as he originally thought.

“Well, I suppose it's not my business.”  Arthur concedes, going back to the smashed potatoes. Penny keeps the look on his face, but he notices the slight way his mouth curves upwards.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Something wakes Alfred up. He isn't sure what until he looks around and studies his locker. The light's still on, his stuff seems to be alright. The uniform is still folded under him, his watch is ok, the letters are where left them, the radio-

The radio is silent.

Suddenly he's fully awake, as if someone just poured a bucket of cold water on him.

He waits, his full attention on the radio. His sight wanders from it to the watch every so often. One minute, two minutes, three minutes. Four.

Maybe it broke?

It couldn't, right?

It was fine yesterday!

No, there's no way, it isn't even that old. Is it disconnected? He looks at the cable that comes out through the little hole on a corner of the door. Did someone disconnect it? No, wrong, the little red light is still blinking.

Did the radio station go silent? No, no way, he chooses this one because it never shuts up.

_Did it break?_

No, no way. No way in hell, it can't be broken. It absolutely definitely surely couldn't break. No way. No way. It isn't bloody broken, _no way._

It can't. It can't because- Because the radio is the only thing that keeps him entertained.

There are two days left before they let him out again.

 _If it really broke he's going to lose his damn mind_.

Well, no. No, that's an exaggeration, right? No one's ever lost their mind for a couple of days locked somewhere without anything to do. Right? Right.

But it's still _days_ without doing anything. He doesn't even have training with Crampbell until next week.

 _He's_ _screwed._

But, that's supposing it broke. Because it absolutely couldn't, right? Right?

Right.

Fifteen minutes.

If he concentrates he can faintly listen music from the locker beside him. Who was beside him again? Abbet? He probably has a radio too.

Could he pass the following days by listening to it? It's so faint. Alfred can barely make out the melody, and he has no hope to understanding the lyrics.

Twenty minutes. His radio goes back to life. Oh _thanks goodness._

It's ok. He's ok.

It's ok.

  
  


Arthur's mom always told him not to play with his food, but. But he hates carrots, ok? So he can't help it but distractedly messing with the salad. Maybe if he tried getting all the carrots out. No, no way, it's still gonna taste like the stupid vegetable. Hm. Ok maybe he could trade it with someo-

A loud, _loud_ , bang beside him makes him almost jump from his seat. He brings a hand to his chest and breathes slowly. The hell? He looks at his right and sees Penny, his tray next to Arthur's, the food almost spilled because he fucking hit it against the table hard enough to give Arthur a fucking heart attack!

“Man, the hell-?!”

“You tossed me.” Penny says. Cold and serious, looking with a black expression that just tells Arthur he's totally _pissed._

“What-”

“Last week, shooting practice.” He picks a fork and angrily shoves a tomato in his mouth. “When they came to collect everyone back to the lockers.” Now he picks the bread and bites it. “You said 'Oh God, I'm so tired’ And. Tossed me.” He bites a carrot. It makes a crunchy sound that almost makes Arthur flinch. “To the ground. Hard. Just like that.”

“Uh…”

“That's _not_ the way you treat a weapon.” He continues, only pausing to bring more food to his mouth. As he speaks the intervals between bites become shorter and shorter, the way he shoves it harsher, and the way the vegetables and the meat crunch inside his mouth louder. It. It's freaking Arthur out a little bit. “Not how you treat a weapon.” He repeats. “Much less a person.”

Arthur waits to see if he's going to add anything else. And when Penny just glares at him he decides it's his turn to talk.

“Listen. I'm sorr-”

“No, you listen. If you _ever_ do that again. _I. Will. Hurt you_.” He interrupts, pointing at him with the fork, making Arthur lean back a little bit.

He looks between the fork and Penny's angry eyes. He's usually a pretty chill dude, but something tells Arthur he isn't playing around with this. He holds his hands up in surrender and mutters something like “I'm really sorry, man. Won't happen again.”

He can feel the sweat running on his nape as Penny stares him down. Then, after a moment, he finally brings down the fork and goes back to eating his food, this time at a normal pace. Arthur follows the example and goes back to playing with the salad, moving it around his tray.

It's awkward.

Did Arthur really do that? He can't remember. He supposes he did, it does sound like something he would do. When he thinks about it… It does sound kinda bad, doesn't it?

He has to admit. It's… Kind of hard, remembering he's using a human being on shooting practice. Look, he isn't an idiot, ok? Of course he knows at, like, a logical level that the guy he sits with once a month and his shotgun are the same, but when put in practice it's sort of hard. Once the initial weirdness of holding a living weapon wears off, it's just… Look, maybe he forgot, ok? Maybe Arthur just sort of didn't constantly remind himself it was a person and tossed it, ok? It's not like there are any vankast in his family, he isn't used to it.

“Sorry. I will be more careful.” He mumbled, looking away, and he knows his face is getting red. Goddamnit.

“Ok.”

Arthur watches Penny with the corner of his eyes. At the very least it seems like he calmed down. He's so distracted he stabs a little piece of carrot and puts it in his mouth. The taste hits him instantly and he wants to throw up, but he makes himself swallow.

“I'm really sorry.” He repeats, and he thinks he means it.

Penny watches him in this… Detached way, before his shoulders slump and his expression relaxes. “Ok. I believe you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Good.” He looks down, back at his hated carrot salad. “I trade you my salad for some bread?”

Penny rolls his eyes, but does move to pass it to his tray. “I'm serious though.” He says, casually, like a throwaway comment, or a joke. “Do that kind of thing again and I will cut off your balls.”

Arthur can't help it, he laughs.

  
  
  


He looks at the blank paper, then at the crumbled balls of paper next to it and he wants to set the building on fire.

“Let’s see… Dear mother.” He says out loud as the pen hovers over the paper. “Are you well? Absolutely nothing of interest has happened to me. Fin.” He sighs. This is nonsense. What's he supposed to say? Talk about the radio station? About how he's gotten no answer whatsoever for his reassignment request? He has around fifteen minutes left.

He picks up his cup of tea and takes a sip. It's more leaf water than tea, really. He never learned to do it right, but it still helps him feel less homesick. Someday, when he has the time, he should try to learn how to actually make it well. Oh, oh wait he could use that.

“Dear mother, are you well? I'm okay. Lately I have been trying to make tea, the way we drink it at home, but I'm still not as skilled as you.” He frowns. Still needs more words for a good letter.

He goes back to drinking leaf juice and looks at his watch. Fourteen minutes left. Yeah, he isn't finishing this letter today.

“Alfred Pennyworth?” The voice makes him twitch. When he looks up he sees it's Major Cooper. He stands up and saludates. The Major indicates him to rest.

“I needed to talk to you about your request to join the Defence School of Healthcare Education.”

Alfred is about two hundred times more alert after the major says that. Oh God, he's _finally_ getting his transfer. Yes. Yes!

“Follow me.” He says and Alfred's walking two steps behind him before he even finishes the sentence.

So he will have some good news to add to his letter after all.

  
  
  
  


“That stupid knobhead!” There's a crashing sound and the bottle blasts into a thousand little shards of glass. Arthur takes the next one and lazily throws it in the air for Penny to hit. “What the bloody hell does unqualified mean?!” The crowbar swings in the air and another bottle shatters.

“Man, we both knew it wouldn't happen. I don't even know why you're this mad.” Arthur comments, as he moves to grab the next bottle. Penny sends him a withering look and he winces. “Just sayin’.” The next bottle goes flying. The crowbar swings.

This is got to be the first time Arthur's seen Penny this mad. It's not that cold anger he usually has, or that quiet frown of disapproval he puts when Arthur does something really stupid. His face is red, he's panting, and his hair is all messed up. It's a bit scary, but mostly it just makes Arthur sad.

“The maggot infested sack of garbage!” The screaming continues. Arthur just leans against a wall and sends the bottles flying. Once they run out of ammo Penny starts stomping on the broken glass. When there's physically no way to break it further he squats, puts his head between his knees and starts to scream. It's awful.

Arthur probably… Should do something, shouldn't he? What do even people do to make someone less angry. He could put his hand on his shoulder? But also he's a bit afraid he will get punched on the face if he touches Penny right now.

At the end he settles on walking closer, sweeps the shards on the floor with a foot and sits next to him.

Penny's stopped screaming by now. He's breathing heavily with his mouth, in short puffs of hair. After a moment he finally calms down, and lets his butt fall to the ground next to Arthur. It makes a sound when he sits on the broken glass. His face is red, he's sweating and his hair is sticking to his forehead. He looks fucking miserable.

“Did you know the French think our military is barbaric?” Penny suddenly blurts out, after a moment of sitting in silence.

“Well, they think everything about us is, don't they?”

“I'm starting to agree with them.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow and slaps his arm. “Hey, now, no one's agreeing with the French here. Take that back.”

“I do though. Did you know they give vankasts free evenings and weekends? And I think they feed more often too.” He huffs. “God, I think I hate the army.”

“Well, that's gonna be a problem since, one, you're in the army, and two, we aren't even privates yet.” He moves to shove him with one shoulder. Penny shoves back. Arthur shoves harder in retaliation and soon they're in a stalemate, sort of just leaning against each other.

“I don't want to hate the army.”

“Then don't hate it.”

“How? It's the worst.”

“Then hate it.”

“But I don't _want_ to.”

“Then damn you.”

“Damn me indeed.”

“You could quit.” He suggests, even though both of them know it's more an hypothetical than an actual suggestion. “I know service is obligatory for guns, but think about it, you endure your two years and then leave.”

“You also know I need to send money home.”

“You could work at something else. I'm a good for nothing, so I recognize my own kind and you aren't one.”

“Hey, what?! No!”

Arthur frowns. “No, really. You said you're good at cooking, right? Maybe you could get a job at that or something.”

“No, moron.” penny suddenly shoves him harder, and Arthur has to put a hand on the ground to avoid falling on his face. It hurts a bit when the glass powder buries in his palm. “I mean you aren't a good for nothing, don't say that.”

Oh. “Oh. Uh, no man, I only know how to run and do push ups. I'm a loser.”

Penny smacks the back of his head. Arthur breaks from the pushing stalemate and puts his hands over his head. “Hey!”

“Don't say you're a loser!”

“But I am! Name one thing I can do!”

“You can sing.”

Arthur winces. “Really, you're going with that?”

“It's true!”

“But you're going with _that_?”

“What's wrong with it?!”

“That's lame!” Penny rolls his eyes. Arthur glares. Penny sticks his tongue out and hey, _really?_ Arthur thought he was supposed to be the childish one.

“The worst part is.” Penny resumes the conversation, pushing some damp locks of hair away from his face. “I did want to join. I still want to work here. Just not as a, a”

“Gun. Weapon. Utilery. Inanimate object.”

“Yeah, all that.”

With a sigh Penny starts cleaning his sweaty face with the back of his hand. Arthur looks inside his pocket and hands him some wrinkled napkins. “Thanks.” Penny mutters as he accepts them.

“At this point I would accept any position other than a weapon. Medicine be damned, who cares if that's what I've been preparing for? I would be ok with anything.”

“You could-” Wait “Wait, when have you been studying medicine, I would have noticed?”

“Uh?” Penny turns towards him, apparently confused with his question “Oh, reading in the locker, mostly.”

“Dude. You can't read without hands, the hell?”

“No, see, I sort of tape the pages to the walls.” He says, doing a gesture like ripping off a page from a book. “And then I turn them around when I can move to read the other side. It's easy.”

“That sounds like the most ineffective way to read a book.”

“I won't deny that.”

“Well, at least you're dedicated I guess.”

“See why I'm so mad they told me I'm unqualified?!” He exclaims throwing his arms up “Anything else I would lower my head and accept, but _unqualified_?!”

“Look, they can't legally discriminate cause you're a weapon, so what other excuse do you want them to use?”

“I know but.” He crosses his arms. “God, I hate this.”

He doesn't get it, not really, even after almost six months of knowing the guy. Arthur thinks it would be nice, being useful by mere virtue of existing. He isn't good at anything, and even if he gets promoted in the army there's only so much you can accomplish without leadership skills or critical thinking, so he's probably going to end stuck at one of the lower ranks.

If he had been born a girl, he thinks, he would have ended singing and playing piano at a bar, like his big sister, or running away to marry a douchebag, like his cousin did, or just becoming a housewife. It would have been nice, he supposes.

“How long till you go back to the lockers? Like five minutes?”

Penny moves to take out his watch, but then pauses and leaves the hand resting on his knee. “Fuck it, I'm not getting locked up again.”

“You know they're gonna be pissed when you don't show up.”

“Like I care.”

“Hm… You know what you need?” Arthur asks, Penny tilts his head in a silent question. “You need to get stupid drunk.”

“Oh, piss off!” And yep, there it is, that look that says 'you're a moron’

“Hey, I'm serious! We get out of the compound, go to town and drink till midnight.” He says while bringing a hand to his mouth, mimicking drinking from a can of beer. “You already are going to get in trouble man, make it count!”

“You would get in troubles too, idiot.” He answers, but there's a little smile there.

“I'm prepared to assume that risk.” Arthur says, in the dramatic deep voice.

“You know what?” He deadpans “I changed my mind, I'm going to the lockers.”

“Aw, don't be a killjoy! It will be fun!”

“Nope. I'm going to the lockers.” Penny stands up “In fact, I'm going right now.”

“Come on, really?!”

“Really.”

“Ugh.”

  
  
  


“So I probably should be angry, but honestly I'm just kind of sad.” 'I think you should shut up and concentrate or you will miss’ Is what Alfred would answer, if he could talk. “Because the long distance relationship really wasn't working, so I'm actually relieved she was the one who broke with me and not the other way around, but also I'm pretty sure she cheated on me?”

Crampbell aims, and misses. He doesn't seem to mind as he reloads him and keeps parroting about his interpersonal dramas.

“Because the letter where she says she wants to break up is dated two weeks before the one telling me she's pregnant, but I'm _almost_ sure it takes around a month or two for women to realize they are, so that means that she cheated on me before deciding to break up, right? You got to tell me next time we talk how long it takes girls to know.” He's going to miss again. Alfred _knows_ he will miss again. It's way too to the left idiot, move it to the right, right! No, don't move it even more to the left!

Aaaaaaand he misses. What a surprise.

“So she either cheated on me or, best case scenario, she broke up and immediately had sex with other guy. Actually, she probably broke with me _because_ she got pregnant, right? That sounds like what happened. What do you think Penny?”

'I think’ Alfred thinks to himself, as if someone could hear his thoughts 'that as interesting as your personal drama is- And believe me, it is, the more I hear about it the more compelled I feel to shove popcorn in my mouth- you shouldn't spend all shooting practice complaining about your ex’

“And that's not all!” Of course it isn't. The story is never over until shooting practice ends, and then some more.

As much as Alfred appreciates the facts he's seeing him as a person, and as much as he has to admit Crampbell's situation is, honestly, genuinely sad, he's been hearing him ramble for the best part of an hour and lost the ability to actually care right now. At this rate they won't hit a single target. Which is honestly impressive, it's not like he's a rifle, so there's no excuse.

Huh. Maybe that way they will think he's broken as a shotgun and assign him to something else. One can dream.

“See, she always said she wanted to save it until marriage, so I went along with that, but now she comes saying she's pregnant?” He continues talking, either not noticing or not caring about how all his shots miss the target by a mile. “And it just makes me wonder, did she suddenly change of opinion, or did he have something I didn't? Was she seeing that guy for long? Hell, was that a thing back _before_ I left? I just don't know.”

“Who are you talking to?” Alfred's attention goes to the guy practicing next to them, who's looking at them curiously, and if he could he would make fun of Crampbell for speaking so loudly the guy actually heard him despite the distance and the sound of guns firing up.

“Oh, uh, you know...” Crampbell mutters, vaguely gesturing at him.

“Oh.” The other man's eyes go wide for a second, before he schools his expression and uses loading and shooting as an excuse not to look at them. Crampbell also takes a shot and, hey, look! You can actually hit something when you want to, Crampbell!

“Are you, like, friends?” He breaks the silence just when Alfred thought neither of them would keep talking.

Crampbell nods, before realizing the man's probably not looking at him and speaking up “Yeah. Yes. Aren't you?”

“I-” The guy seems taken aback by that question, actually taking his eyes from the targets and towards Crampbell “No, we aren't-”

“Sorry, stupid question.” Crampbell apologizes, looking away as he reaches for another charge, his face a bit red.

Now, if Alfred could talk right now, he would frown and say he doesn't think it's a stupid question. But then again he knows it's not the standard. Between the other kasts he knows no one really is talked with the guy they're paired with, and he still remembers a discussion on the subject in which words like “emotionally manipulative”, “coward”, “seeking special treatment” and “who cares? I will be paired with someone else when we finish training” were thrown around.

“It's fine.” The other guy mumbles as he moves to aim and- Wait, Alfred didn't see him reload-

There's this loud sound and between three and five targets disappear, leaving a faint burning mark on the floor.  Both the guy and Crampbell wince, and Alfred feels like wincing too.

“Crap!” The man looks around, making sure the superior wasn't close to see he made an empty shot and then both of them go back to shooting as if nothing happened, even as he notices one or two soldiers not so subtly looking at the guy. He glares at them as if saying 'I dare you to tell the superior on me’ and they shut up.

Silence falls on them, and they take a other four shots before Crampbell mutters. “You should probably apologize.”

“What?” the guy looks at him and Crampbell looks him on the eye for a second before turning his face away.

“I mean, you took an empty shot. That hurts, so. Uh.”

“Oh. Oh, ah.” The guy answers, looking again like he did when first asking who was Crampbell talking to. “Right... Right. Um, sorry Otto.” He mutters, giving the shotgun he's holding a little pat and Alfred wishes he could roll his eyes right now.

He might complain constantly about Crampbell, but in highsingh he could have been paired with someone way worse.

  
  
  


They're at the canteen when it happens. He's telling some made up story from his childhood “And then we saw this huge wolf!” And Penny is being totally sceptic about it “Yeah, sure. Let's say I believe you.” And then there's a loud Boom! And someone screams “Fire!”

It goes from 0 to 1000 in an instant, one moment people is confusedly looking around, and the next there's smoke and everyone's standing and moving and bumping against each other like blind cattle.

“What-” “Move!” “Ouch!” “Everyone calm down!” “Stop that!” “Where is-?!” “Stop pushing!”

And, the place is always crowded, even on normal days it isn't empty by any means, but it has to happen the one day when vankasts are using it too. So it's really not an exaggeration when Arthur says he's engulfed by people, all running and trying to move to the exit and elbowing each other.

He doesn't know much after that, one moment they're eating and talking, the next he's surrounded by people pushing him somewhere, more than once someone crashing on him almost makes him trip, but somehow he doesn't fall as he follows the river of heads. He feels something weird under his foot and hears a scream, and he thinks he just stomped on someone's hand. And then before he even realizes what's going on he's stumbling out of the building and he has to support himself against the exterior's wall to recover his breath.

As people keep being regurgitated by the door, he notices someone's shoes has a bit of blood on them, and he wants to throw up.

  
  
  


“I have always said we house more people than the installations are made for. We're lucky there were only minor injuries.” The doctor sighs behind him. Alfred finishes stitching the guy in front of him and looks around. The doctor's treating someone's broken bone, but other than that, that would be it, right?

“Hold still.” She warns as she pulls from the man's leg. Alfred can see how he grinds his teeth and a vein pops on his neck, but the guy doesn't scream or even complain. Impressive.

“Here.” He mutters as he passes the doctor the stuff she needs for the splint.

Soon enough everyone is leaving, except for the two guys who need to stay in bed.

“Tea?” The doctor offers. He accepts. She disappears behind a door for some minutes and soon she's handing him a cup of tea. Actual tea, not leaf juice.

He takes a sip and then keeps holding it close to his face. The hot air warming up his chin and nose in a pleasant way.

“I don't think I thanked you for offering your help yet. We're under employed right now,  it was really helpful.” She says as she leaves her cup on a table. It makes Alfred feel a bit self conscious and he puts his cup down too. Immediately missing the warm air.

“It's no big deal.” Part of why he offered to help was just to postpone going back to the lockers. That's not something to be grateful about.

“Even so. You should learn medicine or something, your stitches are really neat.”

“It's just first aid.” He states, a bit more bluntly than he intended to.

“It's still more than most soldiers know. I keep insisting we should add some medicine to the new recruits’ training.” She continues with a smile, and he suddenly feels cold.

“I tried to enlist as a field medic before joining,and then again after. They told me I'm unqualified even though I went well on the math and reading exams.”

“Oh?” The doctor raises an eyebrow, looking confused, but then her eyes zero into the white x on his uniform's neck and her face sours. “Oh.”

“Right.” He reaches for his tea and brings it to his face. The heat isn't that comforting anymore. He takes a sip. The taste is still nice.

“That's… Sorry I-”

“It's ok. Really.” He assures her. The doctor doesn't seem convinced but still nods.

“I should be going now.” He says when there's no tea left. And stands to leave, but as he approached the door he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait, before you leave, could you tell me your name again?” The doctor asks. “And identification number.”

  
  
  


Arthur moves the duffel bag he's holding from one hand to another. It doesn't matter how he sees it, it's too light. “Are you sure this is everything?” He asks, for what's got to be the fifth time, and Penny rolls his eyes, for what's got to be the fifth time.

“I told you, I don't own that many stuff.”

“No kidding.” He tosses him the bag “What time did you say you're leaving?”

“In like an hour.” He says, taking out the watch even though he doesn't even look at it. Show off.

“I swear, I would have paid to see the Major's face.”

“Oh man, no, he was _fuming_. I thought I was going to be murdered, not to get transferred.”

“That woman must have ripped him a new one.” He snickers just imagining it.

“Just as he deserves.” Penny answers, smiling too.

“Anyway, take care.” He gives him a pat on the shoulder. “I'm going to miss you.”

And he means it too. Without realizing it he did get pretty attached to the guy.

It's pretty sad he won't hear from him again.

“Hey don't put that face, It's not like I'm dying. Letters exists.” Liar.

“Right, don't forget to write?” Liar.

“Of course not. I will miss your incessant babbling too.” Liar.

He knows. It's sad, but Arthur knows Penny isn't actually his friend because he likes him. Arthur just so happens to be the guy he was assigned to, and he went to speak with him to make sure he remembers not to fucking break him or something. He might consider Penny a friend, but it's fucking one sided.

He's known that since always, and yet, he can't avoid feeling sad thinking about how Penny won't keep in contact now that he doesn't need to.

But, he ignores that, and puts this bright smile as they exchange empty promises of writing letters. He accompanies Penny until he has to leave, and then keeps waving even after the train leaves.

  


When three weeks later Arthur gets a five pages letter from Penny, telling him about everything from his training to the food, he feels like an absolute moron and quickly writes him back.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Vankast, usually shortened to just kast, was the most popular term for people who turn into objects until it started to be remplaced by the term shifter in the mid seventies. Vankast is still used in some zones of Europe, but as of now it's considered a slurl in USA.
> 
> Pd: Every single term I've ever created has a fucking long and complex etymology and I'm waiting for someone to ask to have a chance to explain it....
> 
> As always remember to leave a comment!!!! PLEASE!!!! ✨💕✨💕✨💕


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